


Botson and the Adventure of the Truly Awful....

by f_m_r_l



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 11:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_m_r_l/pseuds/f_m_r_l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes has been missing for a week. But when Botson and the yard finally track him down, the situation they discover is truly unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Botson and the Adventure of the Truly Awful....

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, queerlyobscure , for the beta.

Lestrade made one last check on the pressure levels of the automaton beside him. Its brass-plated surface gleamed down to every last rivet, reflecting the morning sunlight as it danced through steam and coal smoke, flowing with an art nouveau grace that contrasted sharply with the ammunition and weapons strapped to its surface. “O.K., men – and bots – I waited until now to tell you because I didn’t want anyone tipped off that we were coming. Holmes has been missing for over a week and we’ve received word that he has been trapped inside that building by unknown forces. The milkman found a note with a warning; Holmes himself is in over his head, having been detained by truly awful baddies. Clark – you take two men and watch the north entrances. Stanley – take the rest of the bots and watch the alleys from the southwest corner. Botson, are you ready to go in the front door?” Botson nodded, waited a few minutes for everyone to get into place, and then walked through the front door, wood and hardware falling to splinters around him.

“Botson, thank God you’re here!” Botson had never before seen such a look of desperation in Holmes’s eyes. “Take him.” Botson’s arms were suddenly filled with a screaming child wearing an obviously sodden diaper. Holmes himself was busy cleaning the vomit off of one child and his surroundings while attempting to simultaneously feed oatmeal to another baby with his other hand. “Careful! Don’t scald the child!”

“Where should I take him, Mr. Holmes?” The automaton’s voice was calm, of course, and as cultured as it had been programmed to be, though somewhat tinny. “And where are the blackguards? Your note said to expect 'truly awful baddies'."

“Babies, Botson, truly awful babies. I should have known that the milk would smear the ink. Take that one to Lestrade – take a diaper with you, too, they’re behind you. Tell him that I’ve busted up a baby-smuggling ring and that there are seventeen infants in the room, three prisoners in the back.”

Botson’s surface had become less sparkling. Oatmeal dripped and congealed, vulcanizing under the heat, down one side of his boiler. Burp-up and other fluids had dripped down to his elbows and toes from the child in his arms. And one little explorer had toddled over, drooled upon Botson’s shin, and started teething on his kneecap, dripping and smearing jam everywhere as he went along.

“Oh, and Botson? Tell him to send in some nannies. Given a moment’s peace my deductive powers would have contrived to find a way to leave and find help, but I’ve been busy caring for the wretched, screaming little monsters.” With that, Holmes turned, grabbed a heating bottle, expertly tested the milk temperature against his wrist, and shoved the bottle into one baby’s mouth, not lowering the noise level in the room by any discernible degree.

Botson retreated in great haste. His mental inventory failed to find anything in his arsenal that would resolve the situation in a manner Mr. Holmes would find satisfactory, and he could feel his knee joint already beginning to stick; jam was a horrible lubricant, and if he didn’t get some oil on that quickly, he’d find himself limping until his knee could be taken apart for a proper cleaning, or possibly even rebuilt.

As he walked out into the sunlight, diaper over one shoulder and screaming child held at arm’s length, Botson resolved to do everything in his power to keep their sanctuary on Baker Street child-free. The simplest approach would be to keep Mr. Holmes from any chance of reproduction. Reviewing his mental inventory, Botson was able to come up with several techniques in his arsenal that he believed would resolve the situation in a manner Mr. Holmes would find quite satisfactory. First, he would need to find some more lubricant....


End file.
